


Olduvai

by Esperata



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Augmentation, Doom (film), Genetic Engineering, Klingon, M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-10-31 04:55:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17842859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esperata/pseuds/Esperata
Summary: When the Klingons look for a new way to augment their soldiers, they trigger something that has lurked in McCoy's DNA generations. Now he not only has to deal with threats from the Klingons, Starfleet, and his own senses but also an unfortunate new awareness of his Vulcan friend.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> After watching the 2005 film, Doom, I determined I had to write a fic where Starfleet exists in the same timeline. This is it. Hopefully it will make sense even if you haven't seen the film.

“Sir! I’m picking up a distress call from _Galileo._ ”

Spock stepped towards the command chair even as Kirk instructed, “Patch it through.”

Moments later Lieutenant Sulu’s face appeared on the screen.

“Captain.”

“What happened Sulu?”

“It was a trap sir. There was no medical emergency. As soon as we were within hailing distance of the planet a Klingon ship decloaked and we were boarded.”

“Klingons!” Jim slammed his fist against the arm rest before resuming his command face. “Casualties?”

“Just wounded sir but…” he hesitated and Jim felt the pit of his stomach drop away.

“But what? Surely there’s nothing Bones can’t treat?”

“That’s just it sir. They took Doctor McCoy.”

“What?! What do you mean they _took_ him?”

“While we were occupied defending the front of the shuttle one of them stunned McCoy and beamed him away.”

“Stunned? You’re _sure_ he was just stunned?”

When Sulu hesitated again, Spock spoke up.

“It is logical to assume they required him alive for some purpose. We should continue to believe the doctor is alive unless given sufficient evidence to prove otherwise.”

“Of course Spock,” Jim spoke gratefully. “But why in hell should they want Bones?”

“The Klingons gave us a message before they left,” Sulu continued. “It didn’t make much sense to me though. They said they were taking the secrets of… Ul-du-vie?”

Kirk frowned in puzzlement. It sounded vaguely familiar but…

It was Lieutenant Uhura who had the answer.

“Olduvai,” she corrected. “They’re looking for a new weapon.”

“Olduvai,” Jim echoed as he recalled the old, old research station. Spock frowned, unused to being behind the humans.

“I am unfamiliar with the term,” he admitted.

“It was an archaeological site on Mars,” Nyota told him. “They also conducted weapons tests there in the 21st century.”

“Until it was quarantined,” Jim added. “Some sort of biological agent that contaminated the site, I think. Anyway no-one ever went back and it was only about twenty years after that we were headed into deep space anyway. Most people lost interest.”

“That does not explain why the Klingons believe Doctor McCoy will have secrets of the site. Was it a subject of interest to the doctor?”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

“Did he ever mention it?”

Jim shook his head.

“Don’t think so. Though it’s just the sort of thing he’d love to bitch about. Biological contamination is right up there with the dangers of transporters and space as far as McCoy is concerned.”

“Then we will have to analyse the Klingon’s motives after retrieving the doctor.”

“Excellent suggestion Mister Spock. Let’s start a metaphasic sweep to locate that Bird of Prey. Then we’ll go find our answers hopefully with our missing CMO.”

oOo

McCoy spluttered as he was rudely awoken with a face full of water.

“Time to talk little human.”

“Well that’s a hell of a way to wake a man up.” McCoy blinked the water away as he took in his surroundings.

He was in a good old fashioned holding cell. Three solid walls, one with a bunk attached, and the other wall furnished with very sturdy looking bars. Beyond the bars a large Klingon was studying him.

“If you needed medical assistance you know you only had to ask, right?”

The Klingon bared his teeth in what might have been a grin.

“What we want is information about Olduvai.”

“Olduvai? Never heard of it. No wait… do you mean that site on Mars?”

“The very same.”

“Well you’re out of luck because that pretty much exhausts what I know about the place.”

The Klingon turned and said something in a guttural language to another man down the corridor. Seconds later he was handed a sort of PADD that he held up for McCoy to view.

The doctor edged cautiously closer and focused on the poorly lit screen. It showed an image captured from what he assumed from the angle to be a security camera. There was a man carrying a sleeping woman. McCoy would confess he missed a lot of details when he saw the man’s face.

“What in the hell…”

“This was taken during the final evacuation of the site. The likeness is uncanny isn’t it?”

McCoy was shaking his head, though in disbelief rather than denial.

“I agree its uncanny but I still don’t know squat about Olduvai.”

“Possibly, possibly not. I accept you will not talk willingly. That is why we are heading to Qo’noS where you will be subjected to the mind sifter. After that you will be dissected. Thus, one way or another, we will learn what we want to know.”

“Are you out of your damn Klingon mind!” McCoy grasped the bars only to be shocked back against the far wall.

“If you decide you wish to talk in the meantime just scream.” The Klingon suggested with another feral grin before stalking away.

oOo

“How are we doing?” Jim asked again.

“We are still catching them,” Spock answered shortly.

“Captain,” Uhura turned to look at him. “How are we planning to get Doctor McCoy once we catch them?”

“Simple. Scotty’s going to direct as much power to the tractor beams as he possibly can to hold them while a crack team beams aboard and rescues Bones.”

“You seem to have forgotten that their shields will prevent beaming,” Spock reminded him.

“Not at all. Sulu here will shoot out their deflector shield grid so we can beam aboard.” Jim smiled.

Sulu didn’t look half so pleased about this statement. Neither did Spock.

“Lieutenant. Are you confident in your ability to hit a specific target on a cloaked vessel and at the very least avoid destruction that might injure the party we are planning to rescue?”

“Not at all sir.”

“I’m open to other plans,” Jim held his hands out in appeal.

“I have a suggestion,” Uhura offered. “The Klingons are an especially proud race. If you challenge them with having run from the last confrontation I believe you may provoke them into a fight.”

“How will that benefit our plan to rescue the doctor?” Spock asked.

“Challenge them to hand to hand combat since that was the manner of the last engagement.”

Jim nodded. “That could work. And as soon as we locate Bones we can beam it out of there and run for it.”

“Not perhaps the most dignified of responses but I agree the most logical.”

“Right.” Kirk clapped his hands. “Sorry Sulu. Looks like you’ll have to wait for another opportunity to show off your marksmanship.”

oOo

“Commander,” the Klingon growled. “The _Enterprise_ is within range. Should we not engage them?”

“Our orders are to return with the human doctor.” The Commander replied perfunctorily, clearly also itching to battle the starship.

“Would it not bring even greater honour to return with both the doctor and his ship as a prize?”

As the Commander considered this temptation he was interrupted by his communications officer.

“They’re hailing us. I cannot block-” He was cut off by the human voice now resounding on the bridge.

“Captain of the Klingon vessel. This is Captain James T. Kirk of the U.S.S. Enterprise. You disappoint me.”

The Commander darted forward in his seat.

“I had understood Klingons to be brave but now I hear you have run away from a mere six-man crew of a shuttle. I shall have to report this back to the Federation. Clearly our caution of your Empire is misplaced.”

The Commander gestured angrily for a link to be opened.

“Human Captain,” he spat. “Klingons run from no battle. Your crew were not worth our time.”

“Really? I agree our best warriors were not amongst those on the shuttle. But would you be prepared to fight a hand chosen team of six? If you lower your shields temporarily I’d beam them aboard. If they win, you return all my crew. If not… well you’ll head on your way.”

“What do you hope to gain from this?”

“I expect my crew to win. Naturally.”

The Commander scoffed and sat thoughtfully. His First Officer leaned in.

“Why do we not agree? We will best them and be on our way with honour intact.”

“I do not trust the humans,” he replied. “We will agree but I want the ship flooded with neurocine before their arrival. Get our warriors’ hearts pumping. Give them an adrenaline boost to annihilate their enemies.”

“Will that not kill the prisoner?”

“We were ordered to return with him. They did not specify alive.”

oOo

Spock wrinkled his nose at the unusual odour in the air but remained silent as he crept through the corridors.

Mister Scott had managed to beam the away team to two separate locations simultaneously in a brilliant feat of ingenuity. The Klingons would register one beaming and should be fully occupied with the security team several levels away.

Meanwhile the Vulcan had already hacked into the computer to program a system failure that would lower the shields enabling them to beam out. Now he had only to locate Doctor McCoy.

He turned another corner only to come face to face with a snarling Klingon. He very nearly didn’t dodge the blow that would have broken his skull if it had connected. Thankfully he was able to stun his opponent before he had a second chance.

Looking down the corridor he realised he had found his destination.

“Doctor McCoy,” he called.

There was no response so he moved along checking in each cell until he saw the human collapsed on the floor.

“Doctor!”

McCoy was not moving. His eyes were wide and Spock could not detect any exhalations. Spock glanced back at the fallen guard wondering if he held the key on him or if it was elsewhere. Fortunately it was at that moment his computer virus kicked into effect and the force field round the bars faded.

He flipped open his communicator.

“Mister Scott. The doctor is four feet in front of me. Please beam us up directly and have a med team meet us.”

Seconds later he saw the sparkle of the transporter envelop the fallen man and felt the effects as they were whisked back to the ship.


	2. Chapter 2

McCoy awoke and knew something was _wrong_. He didn’t know what precisely but he could feel it right down to his bones.

He took in his surroundings carefully.

He was back on the _Enterprise_ – he’d recognise his own sickbay from thousands despite Starfleet’s uniformity of design – in one of the isolation rooms. Not that surprising since his last coherent thought was inhaling some gas pumped through the Klingon vessel.

His eyes flickered about noting details until it finally twigged that his vision _wasn’t that good_. It wasn’t bad but he hardly had 20/20 vision. He shouldn’t be able to read the labels way across the room.

He was about to have a momentary panic when Doctor Ignacio Sanchez stepped into the room and he was distracted.

“How are you feeling?” Ignacio asked cautiously.

Leonard was about to snap that ‘how did he damn well think he was feeling’ when he stopped himself. 

“I feel surprisingly well,” he answered instead. “Given what I remember, I’d have expected to feel bruising, possibly nausea, at the very least a bad taste in my mouth. But I feel fine. What happened? How long have I been out?”

“Not as long as we expected.” Doctor Sanchez glanced through details on his PADD. “Starfleet are going to want a report on what happened to you over there so see if you can remember anything.”

As he turned to leave, McCoy surged off the biobed.

“Now wait a damn minute. I have a right to know what treatment I’ve undergone. So what the hell did you do to me?”

It didn’t escape McCoy’s notice that the other doctor wouldn’t meet his eyes. Indeed he seemed to be scoping out possible escape routes.

Realising he’d crowded the other man, he moved back and sat again on the bed.

“Just tell me. What treatment did you give me? Anything that would have affected my eyesight?”

That brought Ignacio’s attention back to him with a professional interest. He shook his head.

“The truth is, we haven’t given you any treatment. When you beamed aboard, you were too far gone for any effective treatment. They’d gassed the place with neurocine.”

“But that makes no sense. How can I be sitting here now if I inhaled neurocine?”

“We have no idea.” Ignacio spread his hands apologetically. “Although there is a theory-”

The door swished open cutting off the doctor’s explanation.

“Doctor Sanchez,” Spock glanced between them. “May I have some privacy with Doctor McCoy?”

“Of course, Commander.” Sanchez nodded his head before leaving swiftly.

“Damn it Spock! He was about to tell me what he thought was going on.”

Spock gave him a patented you-are-being-irrational look.

“I am in fact here to debrief you following the events of the last few days.”

McCoy let out a breath.

“Alright. So do you have any idea how I’m sitting here alive if I was subjected to neurocine gas?”

“In fact I do. However it may make more sense if you allow me to explain in my own order.”

McCoy nodded and waited while Spock organised his thoughts.

“Do you know anything about Olduvai?” he began.

Leonard wasn’t surprised at the question, given that seemed to be the reason the Klingons had kidnapped him.

“Not really. Well… there’s an old family story that one of our relatives was among the first to go into space. Worked at Olduvai. But it’s probably just an old wives tale.”

He suddenly remembered the picture the Klingon had showed him and rethought that possibility. Spock was apparently on the same line of thought.

“Perhaps not Doctor. Once we received the Klingon’s declaration that they sought the secrets of Olduvai, naturally we informed Starfleet. They released certain information to us for the Captain’s eyes only.”

“Which Jim showed you,” McCoy surmised.

“He took an executive decision that the mission would be best served if I was informed, yes.”

“Couldn’t keep his mouth shut,” Leonard translated. Spock let the comment slide. Instead he held out the PADD he had and showed the doctor the familiar picture.

McCoy had to swallow. It was unnerving to see your own face looking back at you from centuries ago.

“Yeah. The Klingons showed me that.”

“Interesting,” Spock commented thoughtfully before continuing. “It would seem certain one of your ancestors did work at Olduvai and in fact survived the infection that brought about its quarantine.”

McCoy nodded.

“Guess that explains why they thought I might know something. A family secret passed down or something. Not that I would ever give those bastards a biological weapon.”

“Not intentionally but they may have taken it from you regardless.”

“The mind sifter, you mean?” He shook his head. “No. As I told you, all I know is someone possibly worked there. Rumour always had it they did archaeology anyway, not weapons research.”

“I referred in fact to that possibility that they would have conducted a thorough autopsy down to the DNA level.”

“And what in hell would that have told them?”

McCoy could feel his pulse rate jump and he forced himself to relax.

“Olduvai was quarantined because scientists had attempted to improve the human species with the addition of a 24th chromosome. This, in a number of cases, turned the patient… or perhaps I should say ‘victim’… into a mindless beast intent on infecting others.”

“Goddamn scientists… playing god…” McCoy murmured, absolutely horrified. McCoy cleared his thoughts and focused them back on the present.

“So, you said my ancestor survived? He wasn’t infected? But did he take data with him or something?”

Spock looked awkward. McCoy wasn’t sure how he could suddenly tell. Something about the way the muscles along his jaw shifted minutely.

“I said he survived. Not that he wasn’t infected.”

It took the doctor only a second to piece it together.

“My god! He was given the 24th chromosome too?”

“Precisely. However in his case this simply gave him enhanced senses, faster healing and an unusually long life span for a human. Authorities kept tabs on him but after the subsequent Eugenics war a lot of data was deliberately ‘lost’.”

“And he passed it on to his kids?” It wasn’t really a question but he wanted Spock to confirm it.

“That seems likely. In a number of cases the children over the generations would have had 24 sets of chromosomes. It is likely that these were dormant though which is why your family was never approached. It was expected that the abnormality would simply die out. However I would estimate the trait is sufficiently dominant to remain indefinitely.”

“So the neurocine… it triggered them somehow?” McCoy’s mind was racing.

“In some manner yes. It was only the activation of those genes that allowed you to survive.”

McCoy swallowed hard.

“What’s that mean now though? Am I going to have those extra human traits?”

Spock cocked his head slightly.

“It is unclear whether you will experience further abilities beyond rapid healing but now the genes are active they will remain so.”

“That explains the vision,” McCoy muttered.

“You have improved vision?” As the doctor nodded, Spock murmured. “Fascinating.”

McCoy rolled his eyes before asking,

“What about the rest of my family? Have they been told yet?”

“About your altered condition?”

“No you green-” He took a calming breath. “About their genetic abnormality.”

“Not as yet. Until we know more details it would be premature. Also it would be unwise to panic people unnecessarily. The extra set of chromosomes have been dormant. It is only these exceptional circumstances that have made us aware of the situation at all.”

“They have a right to know Spock! If these are hereditary… what if it affects other medical treatments?”

“Unlikely. Few treatments disturb the underlying genetic structure.” As McCoy opened his mouth to argue further, Spock quickly continued. “Doctor. The fact remains that at present we have too little information about the situation. They have been ignorant generations. A few more months will do them no additional harm.”

McCoy subsided.

“Do we need to worry about the Klingons coming after me?” he asked instead.

“Negative. At least for the time being they believe you to be dead. And having now alerted Starfleet to their intentions, we are prepared to… I believe the phrase is, beat them to the post?”

McCoy snorted.

“Great, so now Starfleet are going to dredge up what should be left buried.”

“Perhaps,” Spock offered.

“How the hell did you get me off that ship anyway?”

“Mister Scott successfully beamed two teams from one transporter pad. While the security detail engaged the Klingons, I located you and got you out.”

“And the security team?” McCoy asked. “Any casualties?”

Spock’s shift was noticeable now.

“Only one made it back,” he replied.

“Goddammit!” McCoy slammed his fist onto to the biobed. Spock’s eyes switched down to stare. McCoy followed his gaze and realised he’d created a visible dent.

“Goddammit,” he muttered again softly.


	3. Chapter 3

Leonard had been released to quarters and suspended from active duty. While he wasn’t _confined_ to quarters, it had been suggested that it was perhaps better if he avoided any situation where anyone might notice anything different. At least until Starfleet decided if he was included by the official secrets act covering Olduvai.

McCoy hated having to sit around and wait while his fate was decided by big wigs he’d probably never even met. Although he had made his opinion on the matter perfectly clear – he wasn’t about to become a guinea pig, despite being curious as hell himself – in the end all he could do was wait.

The _Enterprise_ had turned for Earth, probably with a detour to Mars, and in all likelihood Leonard wouldn’t find out his fate until they arrived.

In the meantime, in an effort to distract himself as much as anything, he was going through every resource he could on Olduvai. Due to his circumstances, Starfleet were allowing him unrestricted access but he was also finding it easier and easier to get into all sorts of other files.

John Grimm – that had been his lookalike’s name. A marine but one trained as a field medic and knowledgeable in scientific research. McCoy had to marvel at the similarity.

The woman in the picture had been his twin sister, Samantha, whom he’d rescued. He’d quit the marines shortly after that and settled down.

McCoy had been able to trace the family line right down to his father, David McCoy. He couldn’t help noticing on that little journey the number of abnormalities. A few too many relatives with mental imbalances or genetic problems. Including his own father.

And now him.

The door chimed and he automatically called, “Come in.” He heard the door open and shut but remained focused on his screen.

“Hello Spock,” he said absently.

“Impressive. You were able to identify me by some means other than sight?”

McCoy blinked as that worrying realisation distracted him.

“Dammit,” he muttered, rubbing his forehead before turning to face his guest. “You smell different, alright?” he admitted.

Spock simply nodded.

“Your senses are perhaps even on a par with my own, Doctor.”

“How’d you manage to make a compliment sound like an insult?”

“Presumably the same way you make an insult sound like a compliment,” Spock replied.

McCoy was all ready with an insult to counter that remark when he noticed something.

Spock was _amused_.

McCoy couldn’t figure out how he knew that but he could see it on the Vulcan as obviously as a smile.

“Doctor?”

He turned away, almost embarrassed.

“How’s the crew? Any rumours about me?”

“The crew believe you are still recovering from your kidnapping. It is understood our return to Earth is also concerned with the Klingon threat.”

“Near enough the truth,” Leonard commented.

“Indeed,” Spock agreed. There was a brief silence before he spoke again. “I wished to offer you my assistance.”

“Your assistance? What with?”

“You are not yet used to your enhanced gifts. Your increased strength especially may pose a danger to others until you adapt to accommodate it.”

“So… what? You’re offering to spar with me?”

“I am offering to help you through a number of training exercises designed to help you regulate your responses. And yes, sparring will be part of this.”

“Spock…” McCoy tried to think of another way of saying this but eventually gave up. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“My strength is significantly more than a humans. A regular human’s,” he corrected. “I engage restraint in most encounters. I do not believe you will hurt me.”

“You’re saying you think you’ll be more than a match for me.”

“Essentially, yes.”

“Fine. Don’t say I didn’t warn you though.”

oOo

Spock had booked the gym for a private session.

Although McCoy wouldn’t say it aloud, he was grateful for that. He knew the Vulcan was probably only concerned with maintaining secrecy until Starfleet made up their minds, but McCoy really didn’t want to be dealing with any curious crewmembers just yet.

Hell, he didn’t know what to think himself yet, how was he supposed to answer other people’s questions? He didn’t even know what to expect from this sparring session with Spock.

So he watched the Vulcan warily as they took their places on opposite sides of the mat.

“I believe the most logical approach will be to test your instinctive reactions first. Then we shall know where to focus our meditative attempts.”

“Meditative attempts?”

“Indeed. In order to learn to control your new strength, you will have to utilise cognitive behavioural therapy to alter inbuilt instinctive reactions. Effectively stopping them before you commit an action.”

“But right now, you just want me to react?”

“Affirmative. It is to our benefit that your profession as a doctor means your natural response is primarily defensive.”

“I guess so. Do no harm, right?”

“As you say,” Spock agreed with a slight head tilt. “Your natural response is not to lash out so you should find you have ample time in most scenarios to regulate your responses.”

McCoy nodded, somewhat relieved at the assessment. He hadn’t worried until Spock brought the subject up in his quarters, but since then he’d been fretting about the possibility of harming someone completely without intent.

Spock assumed a starting position and McCoy copied.

Then the Vulcan moved.

McCoy found it ridiculously easy to block the manoeuvre. For a second he wondered if Spock was moving slower to nursemaid him but then he realised he was _seeing_ faster.

The hits continued at the same pace and McCoy deftly countered each one, arms and legs responding without thought to position themselves between Spock’s blows and his more vulnerable body parts.

McCoy realised he could even anticipate some moves.

His eyes caught the subtle tensing of tendons and muscles that preluded arms or legs moving in certain directions. Gradually, the doctor found himself moving before Spock had even moved his limbs and the Vulcan was clearly surprised, having to reconsider his strategy quickly.

The realisation that his opponent was off balance gave McCoy a buzz and he realised he could, for once, _win_ one of these sparring matches.

Without thinking, he stepped forward and extended his arm swiftly, palm outwards, catching Spock firm in the chest.

The Vulcan flew backwards across the room, hitting the mat with a solid thump.

“Shit!” McCoy ran over and knelt by his injured friend. “Are you alright?”

“I am… bruised but otherwise uninjured.”

He sucked in a breath as he sat upright.

“God, I’m sorry Spock. I didn’t think.”

McCoy helped him to stand despite Spock’s gestures of protest.

“Which is precisely the scenario we shall have to address.” Spock finally shook the doctor off. “Your defensive strategy was quite proficient and posed no danger to an attacker. However any offense is likely to cause injury.”

“Well then, I’ll just stick to defence. Not a problem. Come on, let’s get you to sickbay.”

“I must disagree. What if attack becomes a necessity? To protect others from hurt for example? It should be a simple matter though to condition your mind to limit itself. I believe it will work with your inherent impulses.”

“Fine, whatever. Now will you come along to sickbay or do I gotta drag you?”

Spock paused for a moment as he realised the doctor’s very real ability to do so.

“Very well,” he acquiesced.

McCoy smirked.

“Least this super strength is handy for something.”

oOo

“Is it true you beat up my First Officer?”

Jim smiled as he asked but there was a hint of concern beneath his jovial tone.

“ _No_ ,” Leonard replied empathically. “I just caught him a lucky blow.”

“Uh huh.” Jim nodded. “He said he was going to teach you some mind techniques. Help you control that strength.”

Leonard nodded.

“He thinks it won’t be much of a problem. Given I signed the Hippocratic oath an’ all, it’s not like I’m out to hurt people.”

Jim leant himself against McCoy’s desk.

“That’s good. Between you and me, Admiral Pike told me if you can’t be proved a danger to others then they’ll have no jurisdiction to hold you.”

Leonard blinked.

“Hold me? They were thinking of locking me up? Like some kind of criminal?”

“Not a criminal.” Jim frowned. “More for your own safety. And the safety of others if you couldn’t obviously handle the changes.”

McCoy ran a frustrated hand through his hair.

“So if I slip up they’ll just cart me off?”

“Bones, Pike doesn’t think you’re any danger. He’s on your side. And most of the other Admirals are just worried in case this turns into a scandal or something. All you have to do is lay low, keep doing your doctor thing and everything will just go back to normal. You’ll see.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” Bones snapped. “You’re not the one suddenly bombarded with a whole array of sensory input and getting an impressive collection of broken equipment!”

“Broken equipment?”

McCoy yanked open a drawer to reveal several PADDs with cracked screens, hypos snapped in half and various pieces of what Jim supposed was medical tools.

“Ah.”

“Scotty says he can fix the PADDs,” McCoy muttered, “and Spock is requisitioning some stuff designed for stronger species.”

“Well… that’s good then.”

Silence fell awkwardly between them until Jim laid a reassuring hand on his friend’s shoulder. McCoy looked up to see a familiar grin.

“You’re still the same bad tempered physician I’ve come to know and fear,” he teased.

McCoy rolled his eyes but he couldn’t stop the smile spreading across his face.

“Thanks Jim.”


	4. Chapter 4

Spock carefully lit his meditation candle before staring at it thoughtfully and considering just why he was here at this time. He tried to maintain a regular routine for meditation but events sometimes required additional sessions. Past occasions though had seemed somewhat more dramatic than the current situation might be described.

He settled comfortably on his knees and let his mind drift back over the day, specifically his meeting with the doctor.

They had started their training with a by now familiar routine. He had taught McCoy a very simple meditation technique in order to condition his mind. It involved nothing more complicated than sitting quietly, as he was now, but focusing the mind on one simple phrase in order to lodge it as an instinctive reflexive response to any situation. In the doctor’s case, Spock had encouraged him to memorise the question ‘At what cost?’

McCoy had accepted the suggestion more readily than Spock could have anticipated and seemingly had no trouble accepting the behavioural block. He also had no trouble picking up on Spock’s surprise.

_“I’m a doctor,” he emphasised. “I understand CBT and the benefits of meditation. Plus I’m really not fond of the idea of causing harm.”_

Which Spock could accept was perfectly true. Although McCoy had a tendency to rant and insult, he had always displayed an unimpeachable commitment to his chosen discipline including its principles of non-violence. A balance not always easy to uphold in Starfleet as Spock knew all too well having failed to do so himself more than he would like.

From there they’d moved on to sparring. Following their first few sessions, which had focused on defensive manoeuvres, they had begun working on calculated attacks. Initially this had resulted in Spock getting quite bruised which provoked a deeply concerned response. McCoy looked almost pained himself as he treated the various injuries.

It was only Spock’s insistence that it was better to get any such mistakes out the way now, in a secure environment where McCoy could easily patch him up afterwards, that convinced the human to continue.

And he had improved greatly. Spock was tempted to conclude McCoy’s obvious discomfort at hurting him had prompted the rapid development but it was equally likely another side effect of his enhanced learning abilities.

Today however, something had been different. Superficially this was because it was the first time McCoy had managed to disable him without injury but that did not explain his own spike of anxiety. Such an achievement should have inspired satisfaction, or pride if he were to feel any emotion at all.

Spock brought the interaction back to replay in his mind and let himself relive the events.

McCoy’s attack was a blend of Starfleet training and a newly developed instinct, doubtless combined with his encyclopaedic knowledge of anatomy. As such it lacked in finesse, and Spock privately reflected that if the man chose to study other disciplines he would be a formidable opponent.

Vulcans were trained in a wide array of techniques and that allowed Spock to counter the doctor most effectively. It was in fact the most closely matched Spock had found himself since leaving Vulcan. There was a synchronicity to their movements that reminded him of dances he’d learned in his youth. Each of them were watching and analysing tiny tells that indicated practised moves.

It had been almost invigorating.

Then McCoy had utilised that most human of abilities – unpredictability. Instead of taking the obvious motion to counter Spock’s evasion, he’d swung with him and carried them both around until he’d got Spock pinned securely against the wall.

_‘Koon-ut-kal-if-fee’._

Spock flinched at the echo of the memory. The words had shocked him then as they’d popped into his mind and, despite being prepared now, they still provoked an unsettling reaction.

McCoy had held him in place, awaiting either a counter or a submission, and Spock had for once acted instinctively.

_“I submit.”_

There was a blink of surprise before a wide grin spread across the doctor’s face and Spock couldn’t stop his reaction. He blushed.

The happy smile vanished in an immediate look of concern.

_“Shit. Did I hurt you again? I thought I was doing well.”_

_“You did not. You achieved victory with the minimum of force.”_

_“You sure? You look unusually flushed. Unless that’s just me noticing what I wouldn’t have before.”_

Spock was not ashamed to admit he had leapt upon the explanation. It was indeed more than likely that previously the human would not have noticed such a reaction in him. It was however not enough to dispel his own concerns. The fact was he had reacted in a way he had not done before and the true explanation was something he hesitated to admit, even to himself.

The koon-ut-kal-if-fee. He remembered his father explaining at his betrothal to T’Pring. The marriage or challenge, when a union would either be consummated or he would be forced to fight for the right to mate. It seemed all too apparent why the phrase had come to his mind at that place, at that time.

McCoy had fought him and won. In Vulcan tradition that would have granted him the right to mate.

Spock tried to resist the idea but his mind was always too human in its willingness to indulge in imaginings. The hot desert sand of his home beneath his feet, the priestess speaking the sacred words, the doctor claiming his betrothed in ritualised fighting before…

He jerked to his feet and abruptly snuffed the candle in an attempt to block his thoughts travelling further. These were not helpful ideas. He had acknowledged his awakening attraction and now he must deal with it. In a responsible, mature fashion.

oOo

“I do not believe I can continue working with Doctor McCoy,” Spock announced.

Jim turned to him in surprise. 

“Cannot continue…? Has he injured you?” he asked in alarm.

“No,” Spock admitted. “In fact he has taken remarkably well to restraining his superior strength.” A faint green tinge tinted the Vulcan’s ears.

Kirk was observant, it was one of his most valuable attributes as a captain. The involuntary response did not go unnoticed.

“Huh. Are you admitting his strength is even greater than yours Spock?”

The Vulcan met his gaze unflinchingly.

“It is a fact that the doctor’s strength is greater than my own.”

“So why can’t you continue working with him? Do you think he might hurt you? Because, forgive me if I’m wrong, but I thought you volunteered to ensure he wouldn’t accidently hurt anyone else.”

“I did. And I do not believe he is a risk to others. It is therefore unnecessary to continue our exercises.”

“Hold on. That’s not what you said a few minutes ago. You said you _couldn’t_ continue – not that it wasn’t necessary. And I know you. You’re too careful to use the wrong wording accidently. So why _can’t_ you continue?”

Spock looked awkward. Or at least he focused his gaze on Jim’s shoulder rather than his face.

“I had not anticipated my own response to experiencing the doctor’s superior strength first hand.”

“Are you _jealous_?” Jim grinned. “Now you know how all us mere Earthlings feel.”

“I am not in fact jealous of his superior strength,” Spock amended, lowering his gaze still further.

Jim stared at him non plussed until it suddenly twigged.

“Oh! OH! It turns you on!”

Spock neither answered directly nor lifted his gaze.

“I have never experienced this reaction before. I sparred with many Vulcans whose strength exceeded my own but…”

“But none who provoked an emotional response,” Jim suggested sympathetically.

Spock finally lifted his eyes.

“Indeed.”

“Spock… I have to ask. Is it just physical or could you be in love with him?”

Spock’s gaze shifted away again but thoughtfully this time rather than embarrassed.

“Although my reaction is linked primarily to the physical… I do not believe it is merely that. Rather, I suspect the juxtaposition of McCoy’s caring nature with his… domineering strength… provokes simultaneous feelings of comfort and security.”

“Are you saying you’re not turned on by being overpowered?” Jim asked in amusement.

“I am saying it is not merely that,” Spock countered.

Jim grinned hugely at the confession.

“Spock that’s great.”

A disbelieving eyebrow arched.

“I fail to see how this can be classified as ‘great’.”

“Of course it is! You’re physically attracted to him as well as emotionally connected!”

“I still do not understand how you define this as ‘great’,” Spock reiterated, clearly confused.

Jim stared at him.

“You don’t think Bones cares for you,” he surmised.

“He has given no indication that he does,” Spock pointed out. “In fact he has given several indications he does _not._ ”

“You mean the insults?” Jim queried. At Spock’s nod, he shook his head. “And how often do you hear Bones compliment me? Or his medical team? Within earshot anyway,” Jim clarified. “Spock. Bones is defensive as a porcupine. He’s been hurt before and doesn’t let anyone close easily. The trick is to open your heart to him first. Then he’ll protect you ‘til his dying breath.”

“You suggest I should admit my… feelings to him?”

“I can’t guarantee he’ll return them,” Jim replied honestly, “though I think he does. But I’m pretty damn sure he won’t risk saying anything unless you do so… if there’s any chance, you _have_ to make the first move.”

Spock considered this advice carefully.

“I shall consider the possibility,” he eventually agreed.


	5. Chapter 5

Vulcans did not believe in luck. However that did not mean they could not appreciate circumstances being optimum for a set objective to be achieved. And _Enterprise’s_ return to the Sol system provided ample reason to delay dealing with his inconvenient feelings regarding the doctor.

Although it did not affect the fact that he was still unusually aware of the other man. Especially as they were sat alone now either side of the conference table awaiting Jim. Spock was primarily concerned with controlling any external signs of attraction he might unwittingly display but he couldn’t help but analyse McCoy as well.

The human was undeniably handsome – that was an indisputable fact that Spock would never have denied. What he would have denied was the doctor’s essential character. When they’d first met he had been unable to see beyond McCoy’s combative nature to realise it hid a deeply empathetic, caring disposition. That awareness had come more recently and he briefly considered at what point he would have uncovered his own feelings if events had not prompted his realisation.

It may well have remained unacknowledged a long time. Perhaps therefore Spock should view this development as providential. Allowing him to develop a relationship earlier than he might otherwise have considered. Although that seemed somewhat presumptuous. He had no basis to assume the doctor would be similarly interested in him except Jim’s suggestion.

“Can you stop doing that?”

Spock blinked at the interruption to his thoughts. McCoy was still sat as he had been while Spock observed him, eyes seemingly focused on the PADD in front of him. He looked up now though with an expression of weariness.

“What are you staring at me for anyhow? You’ve had more chance to study me than most lately. Doubt you’ll see anything different now.”

Spock did not lower his gaze though he was peripherally aware that blood flow had increased to his ear tips no doubt flushing them. He should have anticipated McCoy would sense his blatant attention.

“I am merely concerned for your emotional state at the present time,” he replied easily.

Opposite him, McCoy huffed as he deposited the PADD on the table and turned his own gaze away to the window.

“I won’t deny I’m tense. It seems my life isn’t my own anymore and that worries me. But I’m not going to lose control. I still got your teaching in mind.”

He looked back across the table with a grin.

“I am gratified to hear it.”

McCoy’s grin shifted into something gentler and he ducked his gaze back to his PADD.

“’bout that actually. I’ve been meaning to ask-”

He stopped abruptly as the door slid open and Jim rushed in.

“Hey guys. Sorry I’m late.” He glanced between his two officers, one with flushed green ears and the other practically staring a hole into the table top. “Did I interrupt something?”

Spock continued to watch the doctor, waiting for him to answer since he had been the one actually interrupted. McCoy looked up with a familiar false smile.

“Nah. Nothing important.” He leant forward. “Just fillin’ time ‘til you got here.”

“Right.” Jim sat himself and flicked open the screen on his own PADD certain both that he _had_ interrupted something but also that his own information probably warranted it.

“Well, as usual Starfleet have managed to take a great deal of time and actually decided very little,” he continued.

“Have they issued any commands about the doctor’s status?” Spock queried.

“Not yet.” He turned his gaze from Spock to focus on McCoy “There’s a lot of fierce arguing going on about genetically engineered beings being disqualified from Starfleet-”

“The doctor was-”

“I’m not-”

Spock and McCoy spoke at the same time and Jim raised his hands to silence them both.

“I _know_.” He cast a resigned glance between them. “Trust me. Plenty of people high up don’t want to see the best physician in the fleet kicked out over a technicality. You weren’t _engineered_. It’s an inbred mutation. I’m sure they’ll give it up soon. It’s just a few loudmouths using this as a political soapbox.”

Spock settled at the logical explanation but the doctor was not yet calmed.

“And what about the scientists? Are they clamouring for a chance to examine me?”

There was a distinct hesitation.

“I think that would contravene your human rights if they demanded access to clinical tests without your permission. However I suspect Starfleet Medical will request an updated file from you soon. And they may insist on it being conducted back in San Francisco. We can’t really argue with them about that.”

McCoy sank back into his chair, clearly unhappy but overall unsurprised.

“What are our orders at present?” Spock took the opportunity to redirect the conversation.

“We are to head back to Earth taking a detour to Olduvai on our way. Our orders are to investigate what sensitive materials may still be available on Mars and to gather them for safekeeping.”

“Safekeeping?” McCoy burst out. “ _Safekeeping_? There ain’t nothing safe about letting curious scientists have access to information that was made illegal after the Eugenics war. Records from then were destroyed for a reason. These should be too.”

Jim shrugged helplessly.

“Would you rather the Klingons got it?”

“I’d rather no-one had it,” McCoy growled.

“Oh come on Bones! This isn’t just crazy eugenics theorising. This is literally the genetic blueprint for _you_! Don’t you want to find out exactly what was done to your genes?”

McCoy’s jaw visibly clenched and Spock would swear he could hear the man grind his teeth.

“It would likely be of value to you personally to see the records,” he suggested. “There is a strong probability that your altered chromosome structure will affect future treatments you may require.”

“Starfleet have allowed us leeway to destroy the site if that’s the best option to prevent the Klingons getting to it,” Jim offered as an olive branch. “Their main priority is still to keep the knowledge from our enemies.”

McCoy sighed.

“It’s not like I even have a choice about this is it?”

“They are our orders but I’d still rather you were on board than not,” Jim admitted.

“Fine. But contact with the surface should be extremely limited. And full hazard suits should be worn. We don’t know what we’ll encounter.”

“I concur,” Spock fixed his own gaze on the captain. “While the original reports suggest the virus was transmitted through contact it is possible that it could have mutated to an airborne version. Caution is to be recommended.”

Jim nodded his agreement.

“Starfleet have already instructed no more than a team of four should go down. Us three – since we already know the history – and one member of security. They don’t want news of this to spread.” He threw his friends an encouraging smile. “At least the creatures originally spreading the infection should have long since died out. Most likely scenario is the quarantine can be lifted and a proper team of archaeological scientists can examine the site.”

Spock looked thoughtful and turned to the doctor.

“There was no evidence in your research to suggest extended lifespans was there?”

McCoy shifted awkwardly in his seat.

“If anything the reverse. A high proportion of my folks seem to have suffered… unusual medical conditions.”

Spock couldn’t help his frown.

“Was that true of the original carrier?”

“John Grimm? No actually. Seems he got to avoid all that. He did live a longer than expected life.”

“I wonder what made the difference?” Jim mused.

McCoy shrugged.

“His sister, Samantha, the one who gave him the mutation, thought it was because he was a good man.”

“That is not a very scientific analysis,” Spock pointed out.

“I know. And its likely a load of bull because I’m damn sure my family tree isn’t full of rotten apples.” He frowned. “I wondered if…” He trailed off, seemingly unwilling to share his hypothesis.

Jim however wasn’t going to let him get away with that.

“Out with it Bones. This could have a bearing on the likelihood of infection.”

McCoy actually rolled his eyes.

“Can you not just say you’re curious instead of spouting such rubbish?” He glanced between Jim and Spock who were both waiting expectantly and relented. “I wondered if it had anything to do with the genetic coding for fraternal twins. But it’ll take a lot more study and testing to see if that’s even possible let alone likely.”

There was a significant pause before Spock spoke.

“You have a twin sister, do you not Doctor?”

Jim’s mouth literally dropped open.

“I didn’t know that!” he complained.

“I’ve told you about Donna,” McCoy countered.

“Yeah but you didn’t tell me you were _twins_!”

“It’s not like we’re identical. She’s my sister – the twin aspect never seemed that important.”

“I must point out it could be of utmost importance now,” Spock intervened.

“Or it could be so much sighing in the wind,” McCoy argued.

“Alright,” Jim interrupted before a proper argument could start. “We have our orders. We know what we have to do. I suggest we all try and get some rest before we arrive.”

He rose and looked for agreement between his friends before heading out. McCoy had stood to follow him when Spock halted him.

“Doctor. Before the meeting… you were going to ask something.”

“Was I?” He looked quite innocent. More so than normal. “I don’t remember what.”

Spock allowed him to leave without further objection but privately regretted Jim’s untimely arrival. True, he did not know what the doctor had wished to ask but it had seemed likely to be something… pleasant.

Standing he mentally rebuked himself for indulging in frivolous daydreams and instead cautioned himself to focus on their upcoming mission. The results of which were of importance on every level he cared to consider them.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where things get violent. Be warned.

McCoy didn’t know what he’d expected when they’d beamed down. A sense of recognition perhaps. Or a feeling of déjà vu. But no, it felt no different to any other planet he’d landed up on.

He quickly disregarded his strange sense of disappointment and focused on his scanner. As Jim glanced back at him he shook his head.

“No life readings in range,” he reported.

Not that that was surprising. The area they’d arrived in was seemingly torn open and exposed to the elements. It had been scoured out by the Martian dust storms over the years. Records indicated that this was the hub of the base though.

“Alright.” Jim eyed up the surroundings. “Tomlinson, I want a weapons analysis on that structural damage. This place was built to withstand hurricane sands storms. I want to know what opened it up like a can of ham.”

The lieutenant began manoeuvring across the debris and Kirk turned to the others.

“Spock. Take a look at this equipment. See if anything’s salvageable.”

McCoy didn’t need to see it to know Spock would be arching one disbelieving eyebrow but all he said was, “Very well.”

“Bones? Let’s go see if we can find any of the previous inhabitants.”

McCoy nodded and set off with Jim, casting a brief glance across to Spock. The Vulcan however was intent on his own work and McCoy wondered what else he’d expected.

Though he was almost certain Spock had been paying him more attention recently, it was still entirely possible it was merely his increased sensory perception that allowed him to notice the level of attention Spock had always paid him. Which was a nice thought but also probably wishful thinking and he quickly chastised himself for it.

Of course Spock was paying him more attention now. The whole upper echelons of Starfleet were paying him attention. It didn’t _mean_ anything.

“How are you holding up?”

He was grateful to be distracted from his thoughts and cast a wry smile Jim’s way.

“It all still feels like some weird prank or daydream. I keep either expecting it to all be dismissed as a temporary abnormality – like hysterical strength – or else I wake up thinking it was a dream – only to rip my shirt trying to get dressed.”

“I can’t even begin to imagine what its like. But you know I’m here for you right? Either as your friend or as captain. Anything I can do for you, I will.”

“Thanks Jim.” The words felt inadequate and McCoy hoped his expression conveyed the depth of gratitude he felt.

Jim flashed him a reassuring smile before turning back to the mission. They’d just entered another decimated chamber which it was impossible to tell the original purpose of. However that was not currently the focus of their attention.

The room was strewn with what could only be described as remnants of creatures. Jim toed one particularly twisted looking bone with his foot and watched in gruesome fascination as it rolled back and forth in a pendulum motion. He then cast his gaze about, trying to estimate the number of individuals from the clumps of remains. Some appeared to have scraps of desiccated skin still stretched over their skeletons.

“What were these?” he asked. “They look too large to be dogs or-”

“Humans,” McCoy interrupted.

Jim stared across at where McCoy was dutifully scanning over the nearest pile of bones before staring horrified back into the room.

“What in hell happened to them?”

McCoy shot him a don’t-be-stupid look.

“C24,” he replied succinctly before elaborating. “These are the results when the DNA doesn’t take as it should. According to the records they were vicious and scary strong despite the deformities that probably curtailed their life spans.”

“So _this_ is what might have…” Jim stopped swallowing hard as he blinked at the scene before them.

“Happened to me?” McCoy suggested calmly. “No. The DNA is locked into my genes. Its not about to up and transform me into a monster. If that were going to happen it would have happened to the first Grimm. My family were the lucky ones.”

“But if the Klingons were to get hold of this research…”

“It doesn’t bear thinking about does it? Warriors twice the size and-” He broke off suddenly with a puzzled frown, glancing down at his tranquil tricorder and then scanning his eyes about the room.

“Bones?”

“We’re not alone here.”

Jim surveyed him a tense couple of seconds before nodding curtly and drawing his phaser.

“Let’s get back to the others.”

As McCoy set off behind him he reflected that he was unspeakably glad Jim hadn’t asked for an explanation. He _knew_ they weren’t alone, his instincts were screaming at him to be ready to defend himself, yet he had no idea _how_ he knew.

Spock would probably have been able to list slight changes in air current or tiny sounds that could be mistaken for natural phenomena but McCoy still wasn’t attuned to his new senses. All he knew was that he’d always trusted his gut before and he had no reason to stop now.

However as they stepped back into the control room to find the others still peacefully working he wondered if he was just overly anxious. Spock looked up at their entrance.

“Captain. Any data that was stored here is lost. Even if power could be restored, a compatible software created, and the broken circuitry repaired, the storage unit is so degraded that nothing would be retrieved.”

“Noted Mister Spock.” Jim’s eyes darted about the room before fixing themselves on the lieutenant. McCoy looked that way too, still feeling the incipient panic of attack while having no idea why.

“Tomlinson? Any headway on the cause of the damage?”

McCoy was distracted from his answer by something beyond the complex. A storm was growing in the distance. Dust was being blown up and gathering pace their way. Too much pace. Too focused a cloud. Too low.

The knowledge bloomed in his mind that what he was seeing was something in front of the storm, using it for cover as it approached them fast.

“Tomlinson! Get away from the breach!”

The lieutenant started at the doctor’s imperious interruption and then reacted as every Starfleet security officer was trained to do – he drew his weapon and turned to face the source of attack.

McCoy was about to run forward to drag him back when a clamouring sound arose from the corridors behind them. He and Jim swung about to look back the way they come.

“Bones! Help me get the door.”

Together they rushed over to the heavy metal door and swung it shut, twisting the lock into place with a satisfying thud. Behind them the sound of phaser fire indicated Tomlinson could now make out the creatures drawing in on their position.

“Captain.” Spock rejoined them from the computer terminal as they regrouped centrally. “We should withdraw. We are not equipped for an assault.”

“Agreed. Lieutenant, fall back.”

Across the room Tomlinson began his backward trek to them, maintaining a consistent covering fire through the torn wall. Jim snapped open his communicator.

“ _Enterprise._ We need immediate evacuation. Lock onto _only_ the four life signs attached to comm signals.”

“ _Doing it now sir. The incoming storm’s disrupting the signal. Give me a second to boost-_ ”

The first mutated inhabitant launched itself into the gap and screeched as it was blasted back by Tomlinson’s focused aim. A screeching noise behind them indicated the door was also under attack.

“We don’t have a second,” Jim replied through gritted teeth.

“ _If I could do a blanket transport…_ ” Scotty suggested.

“No!” Jim and McCoy yelled at the same time. Jim tossed the communicator to McCoy as he drew his own phaser to assist Tomlinson who was trapped amongst the debris holding off several advancing monsters at a time.

“If you transport everything in range then _Enterprise_ will wind up with a troop of ravenous monsters onboard,” McCoy explained.

The door behind them buckled inwards slightly and he felt Spock grab his arm to drag him further away. The Vulcan had his own phaser in hand but was not attempting to assist the others. It suddenly dawned on McCoy that he had probably been ordered to protect _him._

“ _Alright,_ ” Scotty’s voice broke through again. “ _Just a wee few seconds more…_ ”

A gurgling scream snapped McCoy’s head back towards the others and he felt his heart stop at the sight that met him.

Tomlinson was dangling in the air, suspended on one hideous long claw pushed through his abdomen and missing one arm. Jim was firing continuously at the huge beast but it wasn’t going down.

“ _Hang on, something’s not right. We’re only picking up three-_ ”

Spock seized the communicator from McCoy’s unresisting hand.

“Beam those three **now** , Mister Scott!”

The imperious tone worked on the engineer and before McCoy could even snap his jaw closed he felt the familiar tingle of the transporter. As he materialised he found himself looking at Scotty’s anxious face and the whole experience suddenly overwhelmed him. He was glad Spock still had a firm grip on his arm.

Across from them Jim was beside himself. He paced back and forth angrily before starting cursing viciously. McCoy simply focused on breathing. He hated losing people too but he was a doctor. He could compartmentalise. Tomlinson was dead. They could not have predicted that attack and there was nothing anyone could do about it now.

Jim eventually wound down until he just stood looking tired.

“Mister Spock? Could you please pull Mister Tomlinson’s record so I can prepare a suitable letter for his parents.”

“Robert. His name was Robert,” McCoy told them softly.

“Sir,” Spock added quietly. “I should inform you that the lieutenant had a fiancée onboard. Angela Martine.”

Jim stared blankly at the both of them before turning and walking out of the room.


	7. Chapter 7

The room was unusually quiet. McCoy was not normally one to keep his thoughts to himself yet he was currently sat, lips sealed, fixing the table with an intense stare. Brooding was the word that came to mind though Spock could not fathom why.

The doctor had not reacted this way when discovering his altered condition so it was unlikely that he was now reflecting on his fate. He had reacted as Spock now expected him to react to challenges – by immersing himself in research and bouncing half formed theories off Spock in expectation of a logical retort.

Nor was it the first time a crewperson had been lost on the mission. McCoy was an emotional man it was true, even by human standards, but he was quite capable of rationalisation in the medical field. He never liked it but he understood that sometimes even modern medicine had limits. It was his habit to drink a toast in memory of those lost and move on to focus on saving the next patient.

Which left Spock with the conclusion that McCoy was anxious about how Starfleet were going to react to the new situation. This did not seem logical but he had long ago accepted McCoy did not follow logical rules.

“The evidence against the viability of this research is overwhelming.” Spock broke the silence and McCoy glanced up at him. “There is little chance of uncovering the original scientific formulas and it is clear the overall success rate is negligible.”

McCoy nodded but didn’t reply. Spock cast around for something else to say that might reassure him.

“The likelihood of the Klingons risking a raid so close to Earth is also minimal. There is little need for the admirals to fear being forced into an arms race.”

“That’s just it though. Its not the first time the Klingons have attempted genetic manipulation to create stronger soldiers. After the unexpected destruction of the _Kelvin_ , and the conflict with Nero, Starfleet have been almost paranoid about being prepared for the next big thing. I just-”

The doors opened and Kirk stalked in.

“Gentlemen.” He took his seat without delay and got right to the point. “The admirals have conferred and decided we’re to return to Olduvai.”

McCoy shot Spock a look across the table. Spock kept his gaze on Kirk.

“Our orders?” he queried.

“We’re to assemble a military assault team to guard a landing party sent to retrieve all materials pertinent to the C24 drug research.”

“Captain, that is an illogical decision. To risk more lives for incomplete and failed research-”

“Is just plain stupid and callous!” McCoy finished. “Men will die! And for what? You saw what happened to most of the trial runs.”

“Most of them were accidentally exposed,” Jim countered. “And then we were dealing with interbred descendants. Starfleet would carefully select-”

“Victims!” McCoy interrupted. “Probably foolish kids lured in with promises of being chosen to defend Earth against warrior races like the Klingons.”

“And what’s wrong with wanting to defend Earth?”

“Doctor. Captain.” Spock turned his calm gaze from one to the other. “I am sure we can agree that none of us wish to see Earth threatened. However there is at present no threat worthy of such extreme counter measures. Genetic engineering is out lawed is it not?”

“It is,” Jim agreed focusing his attention on Spock probably because he couldn’t face the doctor while he said what he’d been told. “However treatments for inherited genetic abnormalities are perfectly valid fields of research.”

“Oh you gotta be kidding me!”

“Doctor.” Spock turned his gaze from Jim’s unhappy blue eyes to McCoy’s desperate stare. “It _is_ logical to investigate a drug which has potential to cure unhelpful mutations.”

“You’re not agreeing with them? You saw what it was like down there! You yourself said the data was irretrievably damaged.”

“I did. And I still believe we will not uncover enough valid information for anyone to successfully recreate the drug. But unless Starfleet change their mind, those are our orders.”

McCoy sank back and folded his arms crossly. Jim threw Spock a grateful look as he rose.

“Right. I’ll go recruit our military team and brief them. We beam down again in 24 hours.”

Neither of the other men moved as he left the room. McCoy simply glared across at Spock in bitter silence.

“Doctor. I assure you that I do not approve of this situation.” That received an eye roll which he chose to ignore. “Yet you seem particularly agitated by the decision. It is not the first time we have received orders that are ill conceived or involve unnecessary risks.”

“This is different though. Its… more personal.” McCoy’s eyes darted away.

“These events are in no way your fault doctor.”

“I know that.” Stubborn eyes locked on him again. “I didn’t ask for any of this but… Its still in my blood Spock. Those creatures… that’s my heritage. I am… partly… like them.”

Spock hesitated as he considered that. It was true that no matter the man’s wishes, he was inextricable linked with the mindless beasts they’d encountered. That had to disturb as compassionate a mind as McCoy’s.

“Do you know of pre-Surak Vulcans Doctor?” McCoy blinked as he was surprised by the question. Spock continued regardless. “Ruled by passion, they took what they wanted by violence. Our civilisation nearly descended into tribal warfare and chaos. That is my heritage.” He hesitated, uncertain how much to share but wanting to reassure McCoy. “And once every seven years it is in my blood. A burning… a time of weakness and shame. But it does not define me. And nor does your antecedents define you.”

There was a long silence before McCoy breathed out slowly.

“Thank you Spock.”

“You are welcome.” He inclined his head before standing. “Now if you will excuse me. I must speak with my father.”

“You father? Nothing wrong is there?”

The concern almost brought a smile to Spock’s face.

“Nothing beyond Starfleet’s rash decision to return us to Olduvai.” He allowed a slight tilt to the corner of his lips. “I said unless Starfleet change their mind… I am optimist that the right advice may calm their instinctive reaction. Good day.”

The sound of McCoy’s delighted laughter followed him out of the room.

oOo

Sarek looked thoughtful as Spock explained the situation and then nodded his acceptance of the proposal to intervene.

“The humans are neglecting to consider the impact their actions here will have on other races, I believe. They are so focused on the Klingons they have not stopped to think how it will appear to the Andorians, for example, that they’re racing to seize a potential new military advancement. It should be a simple matter to remind them of the better course of action.”

“Thank you father.”

“Thanks are not required. I am merely acting in a manner most suitable to maintain the continuing peace. It was logical of you to inform me and logical for me to act.”

Spock chose not to reply but imitated his father’s earlier gesture and nodded his understanding.

“I have another matter I wished to speak to you about,” Sarek continued. “If you can spare me a few moments more?”

The apparently considerate question raised alarm bells for Spock but he had no basis to refuse at present and he would not lie to his father about his availability based on a hunch.

“I have time,” he replied succinctly.

“Good.” Sarek settled himself into what passed for a more informal posture. “It is about securing you a suitable partner.”

Spock nearly frowned. It was doubly irritating since his instincts had been proved correct and he disliked having evidence to suggest he should rely on gut feelings.

“We do not know that I will experience pon farr.” The reply was almost ritualistic by now. As was his father’s reply.

“We have no evidence you will not and it is too important to take the risk. Since T’Pring was lost with Vulcan you have no preparations in place.”

Spock looked away from the monitor, knowing his eyes would reveal too much. He felt guilty that during his initial mourning for Vulcan and his mother, his thoughts had not once gone to his betrothed. Albeit they had not met since he was seven it still felt to him an injustice not to grieve more for her.

“There must be many who lost their bondmates during that time.”

“Indeed.” His father’s voice was heavy with his own unspoken grief and Spock looked back. “Which is why it is all the more important to secure a partner sooner rather than later.”

Spock hesitated before speaking again.

“I have in fact been giving the matter some thought recently.”

His father arched an inquisitive brow at him.

“You are considering a human partner?” he surmised.

“Given my half-human heritage, it would be as logical to choose a human as a Vulcan would it not?”

“Possibly.” Sarek contemplated him carefully. “It is not relevant what species your chosen mate is, Spock. The only aspect I would tell you to consider is whether you can offer equal amounts to each other. I would have you find someone capable of supporting and complementing you. And who you would support and complement in turn.”

Spock’s thoughts turned instinctively to McCoy. Their agreement over the current situation was indicative of their shared desire for peaceful solutions. His own usefulness in instructing McCoy in meditative techniques was perhaps the equal of the human’s attempts to unravel Spock’s emotional conundrums. And then there was the fact that McCoy was almost certainly his physical match.

He broke free of his thoughts as they turned to the memory of being overpowered and caught in a powerful grip.

“Yes father. I will make further investigations.”


	8. Chapter 8

Humans had long debated between the theories of predestination and free will. There were those who argued predestination absolved them of any responsibility for their actions and went through life with a complete lack of concern. Others felt each and every choice was of extreme importance, even to the point of affecting events most would consider unrelated. To those people life was a never ending worry of decision.

Spock was a disciple of Vulcan logic though where it was easily accepted that some events were within your sphere of influence and others were not. He had done what was within his power to alter their circumstances and further worry would be useless.

Still he felt a sense of anxiety as he waited on the bridge for Captain Kirk to finish his communication with Starfleet HQ and the sound of the door opening drew his attention before his name was even spoken. Kirk gave no other instruction but headed for the turbolift trusting Spock to fall in step which he immediately did.

“New orders captain?” he prompted as the doors shut.

Jim glanced over at him and his expression was not what Spock had expected. He looked if anything more anxious than previously. His voice though was even.

“Yes. We now have a two phase operation to perform.”

“Oh?”

“Starfleet have agreed, following advice from Federation ambassadors, that it is best all round if Olduvai and its secrets are destroyed. We have been instructed to bombard the installation with a broad phaser sweep.”

“And the remaining creatures?”

“I still don’t understand how they’re surviving out there. They were human initially after all.”

“The original DNA came from a species indigenous to Mars. It is reasonable to suppose the mutation allowed for survival in that climate,” Spock proposed, for once less interested in exploring the scientific details. It seemed Jim was trying to distract from the crux of their orders. He was nodding vaguely to the explanation.

“It would be untenable to capture them all and no one wants to sanction full scale genocide. They’ll be left to live out their lives. The benefits they offer to research would be minimal and certainly not worth the risk of an alien race trespassing in our solar system for.”

“That is a preferable solution to our original orders then.”

Jim’s jaw clenched.

“That is only phase one Mister Spock.” He reached out and stopped the lift. “They want Bones.”

For a second Spock thought he must have misunderstood due to the doctor’s nickname but Jim’s expression revealed he had not.

“Doctor McCoy?” he asked nonetheless.

“The only example of a ‘successful experiment’,” he quoted bitterly. “They say its for his own good but… I can’t give them Bones. I can’t.”

“Those are our orders?” It was a fact yet Spock could not help his questioning manner.

“Yes. As soon as we’ve dealt with Olduvai we’re to return him to San Francisco.”

“Then there is still time.” Spock reactivated the lift.

“You think your father will help with this?” Jim didn’t try to hide his dubious tone.

“I shall speak to him,” Spock confirmed. “And I will report back to you before we commence the weapons barrage.”

Jim sighed as the doors swept open and Spock exited.

“Well, I’ll wish you luck if you wish me luck. Bones is going to freak about this.”

“Jim.” Spock held the doors momentarily. “Tell him… I am not prepared to hand him over either.”

A wide grin split Jim’s face.

“Will do,” he confirmed.

oOo

Sarek’s attention to Spock was as diligent as the first time he’d called yet his reaction this time was not as pleasing.

“This cannot come as a surprise to you.”

Spock was aware that his face must be betraying his shock before he heard his father’s disappointed sigh.

“It is the only logical option. There was no sense in risking lives or a skirmish with the Klingons over research that is dubious at best. Yet it would be most remiss not to take advantage of the successful specimen at hand.”

“Doctor McCoy is not a _specimen._ ”

“He is the result of experimental genetic manipulation. It would be of benefit to him as much as to science to examine the changes and their effects.”

“Locking him away in a research facility would be of benefit to neither him nor future generations. The circumstances of his mutation are statistically unlikely to be replicable. Even over the course of his family history it is easily apparent the mutation has provoked negative effects more than anything approaching a positive attribute.”

“His ancestors were left unmonitored. An oversight which would not have occurred on Vulcan. It may have been possible to guide the reproduction process to bring out the beneficial effects sooner.”

“Humans do not engage in genetic manipulation except when medically necessary. Even if the secrets of his genetic coding could be unlocked, it would be illegal to attempt to reproduce it.”

“Laws change,” Sarek stated. “Humanity were not ready for the power to play god previously. Now, with appropriate guidance from older races, it might be time to reconsider.”

Spock felt his anger rising and tried to maintain a calm tone.

“You are talking of creating a warrior race. War begets war.”

“It is a fact that there are already advanced warrior races waiting on our borders. The Romulans and Klingons are merely the two most prominent examples. If one would have peace, one must prepare for war.”

“That will only lead to an escalation of hostility. For any peace to be worth the name it should be won through calming of tensions rather than brute force. Doctor McCoy would be better placed in his current role as physician for this.”

“You are not thinking broadly enough.”

“I am thinking purely in terms of practicalities,” Spock countered. “Your plan would risk war. Countless lives are inevitably lost in such conflicts. If McCoy is left free to act as he will, his very nature will lead him to save countless lives. Both through his own direct actions and also through his published research. Already he has developed cures for illnesses threatening entire populations. I have no doubt that his own curiosity will lead him to study his own DNA with an aim to see if it can have any useful medical benefits.”

Silence fell heavily and Spock found himself under intense scrutiny from his father. He resisted the urge to blush as he realised he might have sounded a touch enthused in talking about the doctor.

“This is the human you have chosen,” Sarek concluded.

“Not chosen,” Spock corrected, now battling to keep his gaze level. “I am considering him.”

“That is unfortunate.”

“You will not reconsider?”

Sarek spread his hands in what would be an apologetic gesture from a human and the thought struck Spock that he had picked up the habit from Amanda. A sharp pain lanced through him.

“I gave my recommendation to Starfleet. I will not counter that recommendation based on my son’s affections for the subject of debate. It would not be logical.”

“Very well.” Spock straightened determinedly. “I will find another solution.”

Sarek’s raised eyebrow amply conveyed his doubt about the viability of that but he said nothing, merely raised his hand in the ta’al.

“Live long and prosper my son.”

“Peace and long life,” Spock answered instinctively, his mind already turning over possibilities.

He could not hand McCoy over to be a research specimen. Asides from the very logical considerations of his personal productivity being free as opposed to being studied, Spock knew it would do immeasurable harm to the man’s character to be so treated.

The next logical alternative was the possibility of convincing McCoy to resign from Starfleet but Spock was not really certain that would prevent their seizing him. It was certainly not beyond the realms of possibility that they would take him in under the guise of assessing whether his mutation posed a risk to others.

At least while he was a Starfleet officer they seemed willing enough to trust the physical assessments but that was simply because they were happy any enhancements would be being utilised in their service.

He could relocate outside their jurisdiction of course but that was an untenable idea. Asides from the sheer difficulties that would be involved, the areas available that were sufficiently separated from Starfleet control, so that there would be no possibility of him being exchanged, were not ideally suited to the doctor’s temperament.

Spock would also acknowledge that the idea of him fleeing such a distance prompted another stab of pain through him and he was certain others would be similarly hurt by the separation.

His mind recalled his father’s assessment: “This is the human you have chosen.” It wasn’t wrong. Spock was certain he would never find another being McCoy’s equal. Even though they were no closer than friends at present he still couldn’t countenance the thought of being apart for any length of time. It was how he had always imagined a bonding must feel.

His father had talked to him about that as well when he instructed Spock in his betrothal to T’Pring. The importance for a Vulcan to have a mate that was always within reach should your time come upon you. Spock knew his parents had at times been apart but he also knew that in a very deep way they were never apart. Mentally, they were always together and at the slightest urging either would go to the other.

No Vulcan would ever hinder a mate called away at the time of burning. To keep a bond pair apart was the very worst of crimes.

Spock blinked suddenly as the answer to his problems announced itself. It was the perfect logical solution. His father could not argue for McCoy to be taken away. Starfleet would not dare separate a Vulcan pair. And Spock would have the partner he truly wanted.

Now if only he could convince Doctor McCoy.


	9. Chapter 9

Doctor McCoy was on the bridge when Spock returned to his post. The pale haunted look on his face indicated Jim had already informed him of Starfleet’s plan for him. Jim’s own expression was anxious as he glanced over to Spock but he carefully kept his own face neutral. He didn’t want to either raise Jim’s hopes by hinting at his own plans or crush them by revealing his father’s response.

Instead he focused on his scanners.

Behind him he listened to the various checks being called out before the final order was given. He didn’t turn to witness the event on the viewscreen but looked over the corresponding data flowing across his screen. Graphs and percentages appeared from the data indicating the base’s destruction was near complete. He was about to inform the captain so when he heard the doctor speak.

“Good riddance. I wish the damn place had never been built in the first place.”

Spock turned to see McCoy glaring straight ahead.

When he first met the man he would have concluded it was a purely hostile expression. Now he knew better. McCoy used aggression to cover his own perceived weaknesses. Right now that meant he was scared.

“Its gone now Bones,” Jim’s soft voice indicated he too understood how McCoy was really feeling. “And we aren’t going to let them get their hands on you either.”

He immediately cast his glance over to Spock and McCoy instinctively followed his gaze, raising an inquisitive eyebrow as he looked at him.

“Captain. I require a few minutes to discuss options with the doctor.”

“You can use my ready room,” Jim offered.

Spock appreciated the efficiency. It was by far the nearest private venue and as of now time was of the essence. He had no doubt Jim would delay over confirming Olduvai’s destruction before taking every strategy to delay their actual arrival in orbit of San Francisco but the fact remained, Mars was astronomically speaking on top of Earth.

He wasted no time himself as he led McCoy into the adjacent room and the doctor lost no time in questioning him.

“What did your father say? Is the ambassador going to intervene again?”

“No. He agrees it would be best for you to be handed over.”

“That’s it then.” McCoy’s jaw clenched. “I’d… appreciate a few minutes alone Spock.”

“You intend to flee,” Spock saw no necessity in prevaricating and ignored McCoy’s irritated countenance. “I must advise against it.”

“Now listen up you pointy eared menace. I am **not** going to submit to whatever experiments they want to run on me. Not when their ambition undoubtedly involves creating an army of super soldiers. I can stand a bit of disruption. It won’t be the first time I’ve had to start from scratch.”

“Indeed your ambition is laudable. However I do in fact have a better suggestion.”

McCoy paused and surveyed him critically. Spock wondered what he saw.

“It better not involve lawyers.”

The suggestion provoked a half smile from Spock before he could stop it.

“No. I am proposing we bond.”

Silence fell between them as he awaited the doctor’s reaction. McCoy seemed to be waiting for something further though. An idea that was confirmed seconds later.

“Bond?” he prompted. “What’s that mean?”

Spock took a further second to consider how best to explain.

“Amongst Vulcans, bonds are sacrosanct. It is unthinkable to come between two partners who are fully bonded. At certain times to do so would even result in the death of one or both of them.”

“Sounds serious.”

“It is. It is the most serious commitment of a Vulcan’s life. The choice of a bondmate… it is impossible to overstate its importance.”

“And you’re proposing _we_ bond? Are you out of your Vulcan mind!?!”

“It is the only way to secure your continuing freedom-”

“No it ain’t! I can take a shuttle – Jim will look the other way – and be out of this system before anyone even starts looking for me.”

“That plan has a very minimal chance of success. It would be more logical to-”

“No. Nope. I’m not letting you throw your future away over me. You don’t have-”

“What if I _want_ to?” Spock interrupted.

That shocked McCoy into temporary silence and Spock could see his eyes flitting over his face, no doubt noting the signs of stress clearly apparent.

“Doctor, I would not suggest such a thing merely to spare you incarceration. It is too important. But if it were to secure both your future and mine?”

“Your and… Spock. Are you saying… you _want_ a future with me?”

“Yes. I confess the idea of bonding with you was prompted by recent events but the underlying… desire for a relationship with you was there before.”

He watched with interest as McCoy swallowed hard.

“Holy shit. I can see your pupils dilate when you say that. You’re serious.”

“Absolutely. You would make a most suitable mate. We share similar ideals yet are not so alike we will not help each other grow and develop. I am also physically attracted to you yet I will understand if that is not reciprocated.”

“Not reciprocated? Are you kidding me? I was lusting after you before I was willing to recognise you weren’t actually an absolute asshole.”

Spock knew he was visibly blushing at the admission but saw no reason to hide the reaction. Firstly because to hide such reactions from ones mate was unnecessary but also because it would help emphasise to McCoy that he was not lying about wanting this.

“Look, Spock. I believe you’re attracted to me. And I know I’m attracted to you. But what precisely is this bonding? You said it can result in death if we’re kept apart?”

McCoy’s eyes were avoiding him at present and Spock was strangely grateful. He needed to be clear about this. He would not wish to commit the other man without being certain he understood.

“It is a telepathic union. Our minds would be linked forever.”

“You’d be in my head?” The abhorrence the human felt at the idea was obvious and Spock shifted uncomfortably. For a Vulcan the idea was comforting.

“Not exactly. You’d be able to sense my presence certainly, but not read my mind. Any strong sensations would be carried over so you would know my… state of mind, if you like.”

A faint smile pulled at McCoy’s lips and Spock felt a sensation of relief.

“That sounds kinda nice. Having someone always there.”

“It is imperative for a Vulcan’s pon farr.” Spock steeled his resolve, knowing he had to explain this if he were to ask McCoy to submit to it with him. “Our time of burning. When we have to…” he hesitated, licking his lips before pressing on. “We have to mate or die. If a Vulcan is unbonded he can die before reaching help. A bond allows the partner to know immediately when this occurs and go to their aid.”

“You have to mate or die? Literally? How is this not in your medical files!?”

“I am half Vulcan. It is not certain that I will have to endure the burning.”

“So you may not _need_ a bond?”

“For the pon farr, possibly not. Although my parents were concerned enough that they did arrange one for me.” At McCoy’s inquisitive look he added, “She died on Vulcan. Yet the fact remains no Vulcan would stand for the separation of a Vulcan from their bondmate. And I would still very much like to have such a bond with you.”

McCoy flushed beautifully and ducked his gaze. Spock allowed him time and space to process this although he could feel his own pulse racing above normal.

“What if you change your mind?” The question was quiet but it still broke the silence like a gunshot. The intense gaze McCoy now fixed on him reaffirmed the importance of it to him. Spock levelled an equally intense stare back.

“I will not.”

For a long moment they simply stared at each other, cataloguing every unconscious reaction and willing the other to be true. Then McCoy nodded.

“Yeah Spock. I’d… like to bond with you.”

There was no conscious decision to move yet Spock found himself almost immediately in front of McCoy. Just in time to hear the whispered word that followed.

“Please.”

Swallowing back his own exhalation of relief, he raised a tremulous hand up to the doctor’s temple. It had been a long time since he’d performed this rite with T’Pring but his fingers instinctively found the right spots on the human face before him.

“My mind to your mind,” he murmured. “My thoughts to your thoughts.”

He opened his own mind and felt the rush of McCoy’s mind flowing in. Familiar thoughts attracted each other forming swirling eddies while other currents branched off in separate directions.

Images of himself clashed against those he held in his own head forming a strange optical illusion. He knew McCoy must be experiencing the same thing as he recognised how he viewed the doctor probably didn’t equate to how he viewed himself.

He resisted the draw of the most unfamiliar thoughts. Memories of a childhood so unlike his own made him curious but he knew how important it was to still respect their privacy. Added to which they did not have the luxury of time now to fully explore.

With that idea bursting again between them, Spock pulled himself apart, leaving a trail of his thoughts drifting in their continued shared space. Clarity gradually returned with the few steps he took to create physical distance and he watched enraptured as he saw McCoy also come back to himself.

“Wow.”

“The bond will settle over time,” he offered. “Usually Vulcans take several days to establish-”

“I can sense your fondness,” McCoy interrupted with a wide smile. “You like watching me.”

“I do,” Spock agreed easily. “You are easily the most fascinating individual I have ever met. I look forward to studying you further.”

“Oh? Studying me further?”

The tenor of his thoughts left Spock in no doubt what he meant.

“Later,” he suggested. “Right now, may I suggest we announce our… new union to the proper authorities?”

“Go tell Starfleet to stick it?” McCoy grinned. “Absolutely darling.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's some smutty language towards the end here. Just be warned.

The meeting with Starfleet went well. Jim played up his apologies over the situation while McCoy simply smirked in the background and Spock was implacable in his assertion of his rights over his bondmate.

They all watched with various degrees of amusement as the admirals conference called Sarek to ask if there really wasn’t any way around this technicality. Spock could only imagine the Vulcan ambassador’s response to being asked if they really couldn’t lock away one half of a bonded pair while the other was in deep space.

His father called him later to congratulate him, though whether on his successful manipulation or bonding was unclear.

It had been left unspoken between him and McCoy that they weren’t going to rush anything. He had implied the bond needed time to settle and it seemed the human also needed a few days to adjust himself to the change. Spock was content with the knowledge that they were bonded now. The speed at which they progressed from here would not alter their ultimate destination.

And there were enough signs that the relationship was not unwelcome to McCoy to convince Spock it had not been agreed to in haste. Asides from the warm bursts across their minds when they met, McCoy smiled at him more than before. He was also insisting Spock stop calling him Doctor so much, although the growl of irritation when he did so was illogically pleasing.

Or perhaps not so illogical as it inevitably drew the human’s attention more directly and Spock did enjoy being the subject of the man’s attention.

Still, they maintained a professional distance as everything calmed down in the aftermath of their trip to HQ. It wasn’t until they were back on their way into deep space that circumstances prompted a shift in their interactions.

They were walking together from the labs up to the messhall, idly arguing about the likely outcome of their recent experiments, when a couple of ensigns came barrelling down the corridor towards them.

McCoy reacted first. He stepped aside, flinging an arm across Spock’s chest and pulling him easily with him against the wall. He let out an irritated breath as the younger officers rushed on without so much as an apology.

“Honest to god, its like working with children,” he grumbled before focusing on Spock again. A frown creased his brow as he took in the Vulcan’s unusual stillness. “You alright?”

Spock nodded, too busy concentrating on ignoring his base associations with the forceful gesture to risk a verbal response.

“You look flushed.” McCoy instinctively reached out a hand to Spock’s forehead to test his temperature and inadvertently heightened the mental connection between them. “Oh,” he gasped as the imagery in Spock’s mind flashed into his. Then a slow smile spread across his face and he leant minutely closer. “You like my newfound strength huh?”

“I do,” Spock admitted, pulling himself back away from the wall and therefore commeasurably closer to McCoy. From their proximity it was easy to detect the signs of reciprocal arousal in the human and he was reassessing his relaxed attitude to the speed of their relationship’s progression.

“What say we skip the messhall?” McCoy murmured. “I think we may need to conduct more tests on our comparative strength.”

Spock allowed a brief hesitation as he considered the proposal.

“It is true that we never tested for increased endurance,” he suggested.

“Endurance huh? Do Vulcans possess superior stamina to ordinary humans then?”

“They do. It is also heightened during… our time. It would be logical to prepare ourselves in advance.”

McCoy laughed in delighted amusement.

“Why Mister Spock,” he drawled. “Are you proposing we fuck like rabbits in the aid of sexual exposure therapy?”

“I am not familiar with the mating practices of rabbits.” He leant close to speak directly into his bondmate’s ear. “I am proposing we engage sexually like two aroused males with greatly increased strength and stamina.”

As he drew away again the look on McCoy’s face left him in no doubt that his proposition had been well received.

“Darlin’, you had me at ‘engage’.” And so saying, McCoy seized hold of his arm and yanked him after him towards their quarters.


End file.
